


Undress My Mind

by mckayla (steveromanov)



Series: Stevenat Fluffy Sexcapades [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3819016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveromanov/pseuds/mckayla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wakes up in the middle of the night to find Natasha whimpering and clutching his shirt. He wakes her up because he thinks she's having a nightmare, but that's far from the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undress My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This is an expansion of Chapter 4 from my other Steve/Nat fic, "Things About Us". You do not need to read that to understand what's going on here, as what happens in the chapter is already incorporated.
> 
> Title taken from the song "Make You Feel" by Alina Baraz & Galimatias.

Steve’s eyes snapped open, ears already registering the faint whimpering noises that Natasha was making from where she was curled up and trembling into his side. She had her hand on his chest, fisted into the heather grey fabric of his t-shirt, and her face buried in his lower armpit. With the moon shining in through the window, he could see that her forehead was slightly glossy with sweat. He knew that she had nightmares, and this wasn’t his first time seeing her in the midst of one. The first time she had a bad dream in his presence was only a week after they’d started dating, and although she’d warned him before of what to do when she was having one (move far away from her so that she didn’t accidentally kill him in her sleep), he found himself unable to leave her side. He knew what it was like to have night terrors, and he knew that whenever he woke up from them he hated not having somebody by his side to keep him company. So, that first night, he’d went against her orders and soothed a hand down her arm to calm her down, while also murmuring her name and other assurances in her ear. When she woke, she  _did_ try to strangle him; flipped him on his back and trapped him like a vice with her thighs, but he was stronger than her and managed to pry her dangerously small hands off of his neck before helping her come to her senses. She quietly thanked him for helping her once she recovered, though only after scolding him for not following the directions that she’d given. But that didn’t stop him from doing exactly the same the next time she had a bad dream, and the numerous ones after that.

This time was no different. Without a second thought, Steve shifted so that he was on his side and hovering over Natasha, who still had an iron grip on his shirt. She was panting; low, shallow breaths that he could feel against his neck, and squirming on the sheets. Steve tried to not let himself be worried. This was nothing he hadn’t done or seen before, but for some reason this time seemed… _different_. More intense. He enclosed his hand over hers, loosening her hold on his shirt but not totally removing it. “Natasha.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, but she didn’t wake nor did she stop trembling. He tried again. “Nat, it’s okay. I’m here,” he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles before reaching forward and wiping the sweat off of her brow with the other. She jerked under his touch, eyelids flying open and searching the room dazedly. Her pupils were large and dilated and swimming in her head. Before she could sit up, Steve removed his hand from her forehead and smoothed it down her arm, stopping at her elbow and rubbing the inside of it with his thumb. “Hey, hey. I’m right here. You’re alright.”

It took her a moment to catch her breath and respond, but eventually her green eyes focused and she looked at him, a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Jesus, Steve,” she gasped, drawing her hand away from him and sinking into the mattress, running a slightly shaky hand down her face. He looked at her quizzically, leaning back to provide her with a little space.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You  _woke_ me,” she replied, irritated.

He frowned. “Because you were having a nightmare,” he retorted, incredulous.

“No, I definitely was not,” she chuckled airily and gave him a pointed shake of the head. She was still panting, albeit just a little.

“I don’t—”

Natasha gave him a pointed look. It took him a few moments, but after trailing his eyes up and down her flushed body a few times, realization dawned on him. He blushed in slight embarrassment.

“That was one of the best dreams I’ve ever had in my life, and you ruined it. So thanks,” she chided playfully.

Steve swallowed. “Who were…you know…about?” He made a vague gesture with his hands.

She tipped her head back in a hearty laugh, creamy neck exposed. He only let his eyes linger there for a few seconds before looking back up at her face. Once she sobered, she gave him a sly look and brushed his bottom lip with her index finger. “Why, my favorite soldier, of course.”

He smirked playfully. “Colonel Rhodes?”

“He’s an airman, but no,” she corrected, rolling her eyes. He gave her a faux dubious look, and she sighed exasperatingly. “You’re unbelievable. You ruin my  _fantastic_ wet dream, and then you act like a di—”

Natasha moaned in surprise as Steve silenced her with his lips. She reacted quickly though, opening her mouth to allow his tongue inside. Sliding his hands down to her waist, Steve rolled so that he was settled between her thighs and groaned as he felt her heat pressed up against his groin. She smirked against his mouth before he bent his head down to trail kisses along her collarbone and over the tops of her breasts.

“You know, this is kind of how it went in my dream,” she said breathlessly, amusement strong in her voice. “Though I don’t exactly know how it finished.”

Steve smiled against her skin and reveled in the way her breath hitched as he dragged his bottom lip over her nipple, which was still covered by her tank top. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

“Oh, really? And how’s that?”

He stopped his efforts, making her let out a low groan of protest, before looking her square in the eye. The heat in his blue orbs sent a shiver down her spine. On most occasions, Steve could be resorted to a blushing mess. But when it was just the two of them in bed, the man was as confident as he was on the battlefield. And he  _loved_ to talk dirty, just as much as he enjoyed hearing it.

His voice was low and husky as he answered, “With me making you come so hard and so much that, when the sun rises, your legs will  _still_ be shaking.”

All the heat in Natasha’s body went straight to her core, and she bit her lip in freshly renewed desire. “You’re mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Rogers?” she murmured breathlessly.

 _Oh_ , he definitely was. He gave her a half-smug, half-boyish grin—the type that only he could pull off and still look attractive doing it—before ducking down and mouthing at Natasha's collarbone. She sharply inhaled, though it sounded like a breathy chuckle as she smirked and slid her hands up his neck and into his hair, before tugging on it a tad impatiently as he made marks over the swell of her breasts but didn't go any lower. He laughed against her skin, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated against her abdomen, before finally taking the hint and sliding his hands beneath her tank top, pushing it up and over her head and wasting no time in bending back down to take one of her newly exposed nipples into his mouth. She moaned in satisfaction at the sudden friction, writhed up against him as his fingers found her other nipple, and murmured his name in his ear as she felt the heat rush up into her cheeks and a shiver run down her spine. The dream had left her trembling and grasping on the edge of bliss, meaning that with Steve's current efforts, she was close, and at an embarrassingly fast rate. Steve could tell, the teasing bastard that he was, if the way he pulled back and left her without any skin-on-skin contact whatsoever was any indication.

God, she could kill him.

She was panting, staring up at him red-faced from equal parts annoyance and pleasure. He was wearing a shit-eating grin, amused by all means as he sat back on his haunches with a raised eyebrow and waited for her to catch her breath enough to chew him out. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Steve Rogers could be a teasing little shit, especially when he did things such as give her his coat when it was raining outside even though he only had a thin shirt on underneath or stay up at ridiculous hours in the middle of the night when he knew she was coming back from a mission just so he could kiss her hello and make her a nice homecoming meal. Steve was a gentleman, but he wasn't a gentle man, nor was he the shy, blushing virgin that the media—and Stark—made him out to be. Natasha learned this the hard way. Or was it the easy way? Either or, she wasn't complaining, especially when Steve left her worn out and sore in  _all_  the good ways the next day. 

That still didn't make up for him being a tease, but Natasha wasn't really sure whether she hated or loved that quality about him, anyway. “You alright there, Nat?” He was still grinning at her. She wished she could muster up the strength to smack it off of his face.

“ _Asshole_ ,” she managed instead. She was slowly recovering from what could have been a pretty fantastic, if not quick, release, but that didn’t stop her from twitching her eyebrows into a frown. However, she still let her eyes trail over Steve and his perfectly sculpted features. He had since shed his shirt (probably while she had been recovering, she guessed), revealing the smooth, taut skin of his torso that covered the hardened plains of his muscles underneath. He was shiny, but not with perspiration. He just… _glowed_. Sometimes she made jokes about it ( _you’re like a pregnant woman, Rogers_ ), but right now she was too utterly turned on to even crack a joke. Her eyes trailed lower, settling on the impressive bulge concealed by his navy sweats. That was when Natasha decided to get her payback and do a little teasing herself.

In a swift motion, she leaned up and wrapped her limbs around Steve’s body, flipping him down and over so that he was on his back and she was straddling his waist. He looked up at her, wide-eyed but still amused—and _aroused_ , if his dilated pupils were any giveaway. She gave him a smug grin of her own, but not enough time to say anything as she slithered down his body and curled her fingers into the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down until his erection sprang free. She glanced up at him. He knew where she was going with this. Still, that didn’t stop him from letting out a small gasp as she grasped him firmly in her hand and gave him a tight squeeze. She briefly let him go to tug his sweats down and off his lower body, but her hand was back around his cock in no time, and with her lips to accompany it.

Steve let out a quiet, single curse as Natasha crowned his cock with her swollen, supple lips. She flicked her tongue against the underside of his head, eliciting a hoarse groan from him, before pulling off and giving him a self-satisfied smile. “You’re not the only one who can tease, you know.”

“Apparently,” he tightly replied as Natasha slowly pumped her fist. She bent down and took him into her mouth again, adding a bit more suction as she trailed her fingers down to his balls. “ _God_ , Nat.”

Natasha took him deeper, teasing him with her tongue and fingers until his hands were clenched in the sheets and his abdomen was clenching and unclenching in pleasure. The heavy tang of pre-come on her tongue told Natasha that he was close, and that was all she needed to pull away and wipe at her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving Steve sucking in deep breaths of air as he pried his eyes off of the ceiling to stare at her.

He groaned and let his head fall back when all she did was give him a raised eyebrow as explanation for her sudden stop. “Okay, I guess I deserved that. Christ.”

“You definitely deserved that,” she corrected, crawling up his body and sitting so that his erection was pressed into her lower back. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. “You alright there, Steve?”

“M’fine,” he grinned, leaning up to kiss her properly. Before she knew what was happening, Steve flipped them over and was yanking her pants and underwear down her legs. In the same smooth motion, he rolled so that she was on top again and lifted her back up so that she could sink down on him. As their bodies joined, their groans simultaneously mixed in the air, though Natasha’s came out a little more high pitched as Steve fit his hand between them and found her clit with his fingertips. She clawed at his shoulders, arched her body against him at the pleasure he was giving her, before starting a slow rock of her hips. Steve growled into her shoulder and his fingers twitched against her clit but he didn’t stop; didn’t relent as Natasha tipped her head back and opened her mouth in a soundless pant. The sight of her so wanton above him was intoxicating and he was breathing roughly against her skin, but his determination to give her what he’d playfully denied—and unknowingly interrupted—earlier was unbreakable. Steve matched her thrusts, grunted as she cried out, and did it again. Natasha was unraveling before him, her red curls sticking to the tops of her shoulders with sweat and her fingers trembling as she dug them into his chest.

However, he was quickly coming undone, too. Natasha was clenching and unclenching her inner muscles around him and it was making his head positively fuzzy. He was breathing like a bellows against her clavicle and he was bound to leave hand-shaped bruises on her hips the next day with how tightly he was holding her, but the only sounds Natasha was making were ones of complete and utter pleasure. They were nudging Steve closer and closer to the edge. It was only a matter of time…

“ _N-Natasha_ ,” his orgasm came quick, overriding his senses as he shouted and tightened his limbs around her body, holding her close as if he was afraid she’d go away. Natasha caressed the back of his head, pressing his face to her breasts as he completely let go. He was grunting choppy, incoherent words into the sweaty valley of her chest, arms locked tight around her waist. By the time he was done, cock still twitching as she pulled him out and used a corner of the sheets to wipe herself clean, he was too sated to even move, but he was also fully aware that Natasha hadn’t finished yet. He flattened himself on the bed and lazily gestured for her to come to him with two thick fingers.

Natasha already knew what he was going to do. She wasted no time in climbing up and bracketing his head with her thighs, and he wasted no time in pulling her down to him and pressing his tongue flat against her clit. He was uncaring about the fact that his seed was smeared against her, uncaring that he could taste traces of it on his tongue. He only cared about filling Natasha with as much pleasure as she deserved—about tipping her over the edge until she was just as sated and unmoving as he.

He sure was succeeding at his goal. Natasha whimpered against him, slamming her hand against the wall and gripping the lip of the headboard with her other. She could feel the perspiration rolling down her spine as her pants grew heavy and ragged. Soon, she was rolling her hips so tightly against Steve’s mouth that he almost couldn’t breathe, but he far from minded, especially as she suddenly gasped out, “Don’t you _dare_ stop now.”

And then, just like music to his ears, “Oh, _fuck_ , Steve— _ah_!”

Natasha clenched her thighs around his aching jaw, her body curling in on itself as her hands moved away from the headboard and gripped on to his hair for dear life. He groaned at the pain, the sound vibrating against her clit and making her orgasm roll through her again. A single violent shiver followed it and she sucked in a sharp breath at Steve’s tongue pressed up against her being too much, squirming off and away from his mouth before collapsing on the mattress right beside him. He managed to gather enough strength to wipe her juices off his mouth and turn his head to observe her, her chest heaving and lips parted to suck in air. She was wrecked, but so was he, but he never felt any better.

She finally managed to tame her breathing so that she was panting quietly and rolled her head to the side so that she was looking at him with dazed olive eyes. “I don’t know how my wet dream ended,” she began, still a little breathless, “but I have a feeling that that was _much_ better.”

Steve chuckled and rolled to the side, draping his arm over her midriff and pulling her into his torso. “Does this mean you forgive me for interrupting said wet dream and being a tease?” He asked, the words muffled as he buried his nose behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her slightly damp hair.

She laughed airily. “Yes, you’re forgiven,” she said. She hummed in content as Steve lazily sucked and nibbled her earlobe. “Though how could I not forgive you after that?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled sleepily. Natasha felt his lips form into a tiny grin against her skin. “But there are many other ways I could have made things up to you.”

“Oh, really?” He hummed in affirmation. “Such as?”

He rolled over and pointedly stretched his arms above his head, smiling smugly. “Guess you’ll just have to find out in the morning.”

Come sunrise, she definitely did.


End file.
